


If You Got It...

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: And by work I mean get worked, Case Fic, Dominance, Dubious Consent, In the Biblical Sense, M/M, Reno always knows Rude's watching, Rude watching Reno work, Surveillance, The poor target is oblivious, Voyeurism, using sex to get information
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: Every Turk has their specialty, and it just so happens that one of Rude's specialties lands him and his partner with their favorite kind of case more often than not. Reno gets to do what he does best, and Rude gets to have eyes on every single second.Dub-con in that their target has no idea someone's watching his sexcapades.
Relationships: Reno/Original Male Character, Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	If You Got It...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



Everyone who knew the Turks knew they could fight. There wasn’t a single member without some form of combat proficiency. They all excelled in matters of grit and violence, but they weren’t the only exploitable assets members of the elite unit could boast. Some, like Tseng, were savvy—possessed with the cool head and intimate knowledge of society necessary to move through upper crust circles as easily as a leaf being carried by the swift waters of a winding river. Others were masters of espionage, darting from shadow to shadow, trading in information like in the spy games of old pulp novels. Others still were masters of cyber warfare, tapping away at keys to bend the world to their will.

Rude was none of those things. Though he had plenty of knowledge when it came to the ways people interacted, he didn’t have the charisma to talk his way in and out of situations. He was too noticeable—tall and broad with so many eye-catching piercings and a body that was made for perfectly tailored suits—to slink about unnoticed. While he was perfectly passable at computer usage, he wasn’t fast to type and didn’t know the first thing about programming code. His talents were more simple and direct. Demolition was his passion, and no one in all of SHINRA’s employ could compare to his skill level with explosives. 

‘Blowing shit up’—as his partner was fond of calling his primary specialty—was only the better known of the two skills he was called on to exercise. It was the second that found him settled before a bank of monitors in a seedy Wall Market apartment half a block from the equally seedy establishment where Reno was currently working their mark. Being the hidden set of eyes on an op was a job he excelled at even more than creating a big, flashy kaboom. He could manage to watch the happenings of multiple rooms at once while still picking up nuances that whatever operative was actually in the location usually missed. It was a talent he’d gone to great lengths to cultivate once he realized the kind of non-combative situations his partner was best suited to handle.

If Rude was a bit of a different flavor compared to most of the Turks, Reno was something else entirely.

The skinny redhead wasn’t made to move amongst the upper echelons of society. He wasn’t meant to keep quiet or make war behind a keyboard. His domain was the dirt and filth. He knew Midgar’s seedy underbelly better than he knew the layout of his own apartment. If there was a lowlife with something they needed, Reno could find them and get whatever they had in a matter of hours. He was loud and cocky, a living entity of sass and challenge who had just as much success acquiring what he needed by giving a beating as he did from taking one. And violence was not Reno’s only useful methodology. 

“We gonna dance around this all night,” Reno’s tone was whiny as his voice crackled over the comms while he addressed their mark in the bar’s crowded storeroom, “or are you gonna show me what you’re made of?”

Rude watched as his partner all but sprawled over a stack of supply crates, one of his long legs extended out while the other was bent up, his boot propped on a small box shoved up against the bottom crate in the stack. He leaned back one elbow, the missing buttons at the top of his shirt allowing the disheveled fabric to gape wide and reveal a substantial amount of his chest. He knew the kind of picture he made both to the target in the room with him—a sometimes combatant in the Colosseum who had reportedly stolen a drive of information Tseng was desperate to get his hands on—and to the other Turk watching behind the cameras. There was a teasing glint in his eye that wasn’t entirely a show for the mark. 

_ Brat, _ Rude thought, a familiar kind of excitement swooping through his belly. He could think of a dozen different things he could do and say to wipe that self-assured smirk right off the redhead’s face. There was a devastating reprimand on the tip of his tongue ready to be delivered in a growl he knew would make the redhead weak at the knees.

“Cargo pocket on the outside of his left thigh,” he murmured instead, mindful to keep his voice quiet so Reno wouldn’t visibly react as he relayed the location of the drive he’d seen the mark absently fiddling with while Reno flirted throughout the night. “Looked like it might be clipped to something inside.”

There was no vocal acknowledgement, but he watched as Reno shifted when the mark stepped up between his spread thighs, leaning ever so slightly toward the side that Rude had indicated. He wielded a pout like a weapon, drawing the other man in close with little more than a glance. Their target was eager, pawing at his partner like a man possessed, and Rude found himself swallowing hard in an attempt to stay focused. Jobs like this were his favorite, but that didn’t mean they were easy. The work came first even if he was fighting hard against a rising tide of desire at the thought of watching Reno get completely railed on a pile of crates. The comms weren’t helping, his partner’s breathy moans sending signals straight to his groan.

And, again, the other man knew what he was doing. Reno was going to make the biggest show of things he could manage. Even pressed against rickety crates in a dimly lit storeroom he knew how to twist his body to the best visible advantage. He made a pretty picture with the mark sucking half a dozen marks along the length of his sternum while he rolled his hips and set his hands to wandering. He moaned loudly and often, punctuating words of encouragement with vicious swearing and a tight grip on the mark’s hair. The other man never even noticed when Reno’s hand flitted in and out of the pocket Rude had indicated, smoothly unhooking the drive from whatever had secured it.

Rude smirked as he watched it all play out, letting the tight grip on his piqued interest loosen. He watched on the monitor as Reno flung his hand out to one side in an exaggerated flail, smoothly tossing the drive onto a stack of linens on a top shelf with practiced ease. A flurry of moment followed as clothing was removed and positions shifted. The mark got Reno bent flat over the crates, murmuring filthy assurances into the redhead’s ear as he worked a hand between them.

Shifting in his chair, Rude finally let one hand drift down to press against his hard cock, breathing heavily at the jolt of pleasure the sudden pressure sent rocketing through his body. Reno was practically wailing with need, and Rude knew he was waiting for a litany of dirty talk to come through the comm in his ear. He smiled to himself and returned his hand to the computer mouse, clicking through the cameras to keep an eye on the bar’s other patrons. He moved the storeroom feed to the top left screen where it would be constantly in his periphery while he shifted most of his focus. He was a patient man, and he wasn’t about to give Reno what he wanted so easily. After all, while Reno might know what he was doing to put on a pretty show for the mark and the camera, Rude knew what he was doing when it came to handling Reno.

“You got yourself into this mess,” Rude insisted in a rumbling growl. On the storeroom’s screen, Reno shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the man that was about to be fucking him. “Make it good, and we’ll see if I feel like rewarding you when you get back.”


End file.
